The Man With Two Souls
by Heckington
Summary: The Meta died on sidewinder... or at least they thought he did. But what if the Meta didn't die there? What if he lived on? The Meta did live, but not in the way you would expect. He lived on in the body of Jaune Arc. Who, or what was responsible for this? The Meta didn't know, but he did know one thing. He had a mission, and he always completed his mission.
1. The Man With Two Souls

His head hurt, his head _burned_. It was as if a group of people was continually bashing it in with sledgehammers, only for it to regenerate as they bashed it back in. It wasn't a constant pain, no, it came in waves. Waves that flowed through his body, causing every nerve to be racked with agony.

His armoured hands came up to his head, reaching down to the back of his neck trying to find the source of the pain, but he was only met with his armoured neck. He realized that there was only one thing that could be causing this pain… one thing that had ever caused this pain.

He couldn't remember its name, or what it was for that matter, but the thought of it filled him up with enough rage that for just a brief second, the pain was gone. It quickly came back, forcing him to his knees as his hands gripped the side of his helmet.

He pulled it off as quickly as he could, throwing it to the ground. It clanked off the ground, settling on its bottom. Most of the helmet was a gold visor, reaching up to the peak of the head, the back being a white armour that covered right below its visor as well.

His golden locks fell down, a deep growl coming from his throat as his hands quickly moved through his hair towards his neck. As he reached the origin of the pain, his hands hesitated to touch it, only for a second. A small amount of him told him not to touch it until another wave of pain hit him and his hands scraped at the spot.

A pain much worse than the one he was feeling coursed through his entire body at once, he was sure he was going to pass out. Just as quickly as it started, it stopped. The pain stopped, he actually felt… warm for a second. Then he realized just how fuzzy his head felt. It was hard to think, to remember anything. He could barely even remember who he was.

 _I-I'm Jaune… no that's not right, I'm Agent Ma…. No. That's not right. Why is this so hard? Why can't I remember anything?_

He felt as if his memories were stuck behind an impenetrable fog, and every time he started to push into the fog, it pushed back, blocking him from remembering. After 5 minutes of trying to remember, 5 minutes of sitting there on his knees, he finally accepted that forcing it wasn't going to help.

Deciding that he might as well try to get his bearings, he picked up the helmet in front of him, looking into its visor. His face looked familiar… yet… it looked different at the same time. From the blonde locks that covered part of his face, the scar that went from his upper lip to his forehead, his ocean blue eyes, to most notably, the scar that ran across his neck.

Or more accurately… scars. 9 bullet wounds point blank to the neck. He couldn't remember who did it, or how it happened, but he knew what the scar was. He didn't even know how he survived, but he didn't try poking into his head, there was no point.

He flipped the helmet over, moving it up to his head and sliding it down, feeling oddly comfortable in the cold confines of the helmet. It was just now that he realized the crowd he had attracted. Many people were standing around him, staring at him wide-eyed, or shuffling around him. He saw a mixture of concern… and fear. That didn't surprise him. Not after that outbreak. Two people caught his eyes, two people that paid him no attention.

The first one, the taller one, had long golden locks of hair that flowed down to her waist. Her lilac eyes shined bright in the relatively dim and plain ship. She wore a tan jacket that didn't do much to hide her midsection… or her sizeable bust for that matter. A brown belt covered her waist, a very… small pair of black shorts, if they could be called that, was underneath it. Long brown boots came up to just underneath her knee, and she wore asymmetrical socks.

The second one, the shorter one, had much shorter black hair with red tips that reached to her neck. Her silver eyes contrasted with the other's girl's eyes heavily. She wore a large long sleeved blouse, with a high collar and red trims on the sleeves. She also wore a pair of black stockings and black combat boots with red laces. A red hood flowed off her back, which felt oddly familiar to him.

His thoughts were quickly interrupted by a shudder as the ship landed, the main doors slowly opening to reveal the large academy that was Beacon. For some reason… he didn't feel impressed. People walked by him as they went towards the large courtyard, and he finally stood up from his kneeling position. Most of the ship was clear as he started to walk out, only a few stragglers left.

His armoured boots clunked against the metal of the ship as he reached the ramp, walking out. For some reason, as he looked at the tower, he felt… entranced. He didn't know why, or how long he stood there, but something about it caught his attention.

He was interrupted by an explosion, jolting him out of his thoughts, his right hand reaching for his back as he looked around. He saw the girl in red from earlier, sitting under some other girl, but before he could get a good look at her, something showed up on his motion sensor right behind him.

He grabbed the weapon on his back, turning around with it in both his hands, expecting to find someone. He was merely greeted with an empty space, causing him to sigh in relief. He looked at the weapon in his hands, and the name 'Brute shot' sprung to mind. It was a grenade launcher, with an attached blade to its bottom.

It wasn't the most pretty of weapons, but it made him feel safer. He slid it on his back, as he turned to face the girls. Now there was only the girl from earlier in red, as she lay on her back and muttered

"Welcome to Beacon…"

He failed to notice the single black feather floating behind him.

He started to walk over to her, if nothing more than on instinct, his heavy boots clunking against the concrete, causing her to look up at him. He stopped right over her, looking down at her. His helmet reflected her face, making her stare back at her own reflection. She audibly gulped. He held his hand out. The only sound that came from him was a low, barely audible growl.

 **A/N: My first fanfic! It took me a while to find something that felt natural to right, and this hit the spot. I'm kinda worried about pacing, but I decided I can only rewrite it soo many times before I realize that I'll just improve as I go. I am looking for a beta reader, so if you're interested PM me. Go ahead and review, tell me what I'm doing wrong/right, just as long as you aren't rude about it! Well uh, I don't know how to end this, see ya later I guess.**


	2. Familiar Voices

"Uh… Thank you for helping me up," A growl was given in reply.

Ruby Rose stood in front of the white armored man, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt. After accepting his hand, the young reaper had been, rather forcibly, pulled up off the ground, almost falling into him. She managed to stop herself in a flurry of petals, that fell upon the ground in front of the man before dissipating.

Which led to this, the man seemed to refuse to say a word to her, only giving small growls and grunts in response. Her right hand opened and raised up in front of her, her other hand grabbing the edge her combat skirt. "Ruby Rose."

He turned on his heel and began walking towards the academy, his armored boots clanking against the ground. He didn't even spare her a glance. She stood there, a blank face on her face. Her jaw slowly clenched and unclenched. She looked to her right hand still stuck out, her face scrunching up.

She quickly disappeared in a dash of roses, appearing right next to him. He simply growled. "So… what's your name?" Another growl. A frown appeared on her face, her brows furrowing. She fell on her backup plan, her favorite subject.

A large scythe appeared in front of him, forcing him to stop in his tracks as his eyes slightly widened and his left hand reached for his back. His eyes went to the wielder, the girl who wouldn't leave him alone, Ruby. He couldn't find any signs of anger on her face, she didn't seem to be threating him, instead he just saw _Excitement?_

"So... I got this!" He simply looked between her in the scythe. Unseen by her he raised his eyebrow, wondering how such a small girl could ever wield such a large oversized weapon. "It's a scythe AND a customizable high-impact sniper rifle!"

He noted how she practically seemed to be bursting with energy, her timid nature from early seemingly gone. It seemed familiar, but he couldn't figure out why, and it frustrated him to no end. She collapsed the scythe down to a smaller form, which he couldn't figure out how in Oum's name that would work. She took the now compressed scythe into her arms and cradled it, rocking it back and forth like a baby.

"Her name's Crescent Rose." Another growl came from him, a sigh from her. He went to walk away again, but was stopped as she sped in front of him, looking at him with an excitement that made him feel a slight tingle down the base of his spine.

"So… what do you have?" His right hand reached for his back, feeling the familiar weight of the Bruteshot. He pulled it into both his hands, showing it with a small amount of pride to the smaller girl. Her face seemed to fall for a second, barely noticeable before it grew in excitement.

"Whatdoesitdoohwhatsitsnamewhatkindofammodoesituse-"She was cut off by a low, deep growl from him. She stopped for a brief second, catching her breath. She noticed some words on the side of the gun, spelling 'Bruteshot'.

"Brute shot… huh," She started jumping around in a flurry of petals around the gun, staying in one place for no more than a few seconds at the time. She finally came to a stop as she examined the blade of the weapon, the sharp edge showing her reflection. "It's… fitting."

She took a step back, her eyes traveling over the all over the gun, as if looking for something. Her eyes turned back up to him, back up to his helmet that only ever returned her reflection. "Well… I like it. Not many people appreciate unusual weapons."

She looked almost… cute to him. He wasn't sure why, but his lips curved upwards just the smallest amount as he placed the brute shot back on his back, magnetically attaching it to his armor. He started walking again, this time slower, allowing her to keep up with him normally.

They walked in silence, a silence that was comforting to him, though he couldn't figure out why. At the same time, he couldn't help but feel like someone was watching him, he felt as if every move he made, every step he took was being monitored. He saw Ruby come to a stop in front of him, turning around to face him.

"So… do you know where we're going?"

They had finally made it to the main auditorium, where Ruby had almost instantaneously left him. He was left standing there, staring up at the stage of the auditorium. He wasn't sure how long he stood there, just waiting. He heard yelling to his right, but simply ignored it, watching the stage.

Eventually, someone stood up to the stage. A middle aged man, with tousled silver hair and brown eyes. Shaded spectacles adorned his face and he wore an unzipped black suit over a buttoned vest with a green under shit.

"I'll… keep this brief," The minute he heard this, his blood began to boil. Images of a man, dressed in black and white armor flashed in his head. Feelings rushed through him, regret, betrayal, anger, hate, and many more.

He couldn't hear the rest of the speech; he couldn't hear anything. The pain in his head was back, it wasn't as bad this time, but he still felt it. It made him want to rip the back of his neck open, and find what was causing the pain to end it.

His eyes looked for anything, for relief for the pain. All around the auditorium he looked, but he found nothing. He found no respite. What he found instead was much worse. His eyes locked with another's and the pain only got worse.

 **A/N: Second chapter, and my fear of OOC characters is larger than ever! Woo! I'm going to try and get larger chapters out, and I will hopefully be updating every Saturday, no promises though! I am still looking for a beta reader, PM me if interested, and otherwise, I hope you enjoyed. All criticism is appreciated!**


	3. A Shattered Moon, a Broken Man

The pain hurt much more this time, and it didn't ripple through him like waves of pain splashing upon the shore that was his mind. It was constant. Like someone was digging into his head with a knife. His hand twitched the smallest amount, and he felt the urge to rip out his own neck if it would make the pain stop, be he couldn't, not here. Every second his eyes gazed upon hers the pain grew worse, and he found himself unable to look away. Memories flashed through his head. A woman in teal armour, the same red hair and green eyes… He saw what he did to her. _He_ murdered her. He felt disgust, anger, rage, at himself, at her, at _It_.

 _Carolina…_

The name came to his head, and he knew it was her, he didn't know why he knew her though. His hands were clenched up, shaking. He didn't understand how she could be alive, _he_ killed her. It was certain. He could still feel himself holding her up, ripping _them_ out of her neck, and _killing_ her. So why was she here? He didn't know, and that angered him more than anything. It made him furious. She shouldn't have been there; she should have been dead. This was wrong, it was a problem, but he knew how to remove problems, and that's what he was going to do.

He started walking towards her, his hands, still clenched, were no longer shaking. He stared into her eyes still, the pain was still there. It refused to go away, it wouldn't go away. Not till she was dead like she was supposed to be. That would make things right. He knew it. Just as he was about to be upon her, so he could kill her and watch the life fade from her eyes, and the pain would go away, just as it was supposed to be, a crowd swept in. The speech had ended, and just like that, she was gone. She was gone, but the pain wouldn't leave him.

He felt no respite, no freedom from the pain that plagued him. It made him angry, it filled him with a rage that he had never felt before. He had to kill her, he had to find her, and make the pain stop. He was going to make things right. It was the only way, yet, part of him told him it wasn't. Part of him said that this was wrong, that what he wanted to do to her was wrong. The other part of him screamed, it told him that to get rid of her, would get rid of the pain. He didn't know which to listen too, he didn't know if either were right.

He knew he had to leave, to get out of there, away from people, so he did. He went the other way, away from the crowd, ignorant to the pair of eyes that followed him. He didn't know where he was going, he didn't care. Eventually, his walking turned to jogging, which turned to running. He didn't know how long he ran, but he just kept running, it was the only way he knew to keep himself from lashing out.

Eventually, he found himself on a balcony. The moonlight lit it up perfectly, it was… beautiful. He had stopped running when he saw it, entranced by how it looked. He felt calm, at peace. He felt the pain from before leaving him, replaced with a sense of calm. His hand reached out to the balcony, the shaking had stopped, something he was grateful for. His other hand he used to pull off his helmet, throwing it on the ground. Sweat caked his forehead, his damp hair sticking to his face. A scar reached up from the bottom of his chin to the top of his upper lip. His armoured hand touched it on instinct, he wasn't sure where he got it, but he could remember the feeling of pain from when he got it.

"Nice evening, is it not?" That voice. That voice was so familiar… but it was different. He whipped his head around, snarling and letting out a growl. The man, Ozpin if he remembered, was standing there sipping his coffee with one hand, leaning on his cane with the other. He growled, his right hand reaching around his back towards his brute shot. "Now, I don't believe that will be necessary," His hand stopped halfway towards his brute shot, and he turned away from Ozpin. The sound of footsteps echoed behind him, and he saw Ozpin standing next to him, looking up at the moon. "I always found nights like these to be very calming. It's a nice distraction from the work of a headmaster," Another growl. He looked up at the sky, his blue eyes stopped on the moon, and he swore his heart skipped a beat. He was so focused on the moon, he almost missed the mutter that he only barely heard from Ozpin. "How very interesting…"

The moon was… broken. Part of him, the louder part, told him that was wrong. The moon was supposed to be whole. It was wrong. The other part of him, the calmer part, told him it was right. The moon had always been shattered. He didn't know what was right, what was wrong.

"Well, we mustn't stay out too late, initiation is tomorrow," Ozpin had turned away already, and just as soon as he said it, he had started walking away. And before he could even do anything, Ozpin was gone. He simply gazed back up to the moon, it's bright light shining down at him, and as he gazed upon it, He couldn't help but feel that he was more shattered than the moon was.

 **A/N: And… third chapter! I know, I know, I wanted it to be longer, I even said it would be, but I made it shorter instead! There was just a specific point I wanted to end at, and that's how long I got! Next chapter will go through all of initiation, and we'll get to actually see the Meta and Jaune and how they come out. Hopefully, with the dialogue, fight scenes, and longer time we'll have at least 5k words in the chapter, that's my goal at least. But, aside from my rambling, all criticism is appreciated!** **Special thanks to** **FerunaLutelou for really helping out!** **Leave a review if you find something wrong, or think I could have done something better, it always helps!**


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